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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25598350">Studies in Self-Discovery &amp; Social Support Networks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/unearthlyandradiant/pseuds/unearthlyandradiant'>unearthlyandradiant</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Community (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bisexual Jeff Winger, Britta's the Best actually, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Humor, Jeff and Britta being solid besties, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:03:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,906</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25598350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/unearthlyandradiant/pseuds/unearthlyandradiant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>"'Look at me, I’m doctor Rich,'" Jeff mocks. "'People can’t decide if they want to be me or be with me!'"</em>
    <br/>
    <em>Annie and Britta exchange a look. "Jeff, nobody's saying that but you."</em>
    <br/>
  </p>
</blockquote>Jeff figures out his interest in other guys is based on more than just jealousy.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abed Nadir &amp; Jeff Winger, Britta Perry &amp; Jeff Winger, Rich Stephenson/Jeff Winger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>207</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Studies in Self-Discovery &amp; Social Support Networks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>loosely based around 2x12 (asian population studies). the conversation between annie and jeff takes place during the anthropology class we see in the beginning of that episode, but the study group mixer is held a few days later (instead of that same evening, like in the episode).</p><p>also, i do want to give a heads up for some very minor internalized homophobia. (when i personally realized i’m bi, i had some dumb biases to work through, and i think jeff would have to do the same.) i feel it’s very light, but... just in case that’s not something you’re in the mood for.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“ - and then he offered to give me a ride home, despite the fact that I was obviously trying to intimidate him in a dark parking lot. <em>God</em>, I hate him so much.”</p><p>“Christ, Jeff,” Britta groans, dramatically enough to be heard over the noise of the bustling hallway. “Are you gonna talk about this guy all day, or -”</p><p>“I honestly cannot stand his face, y’know?” Jeff complains.</p><p>“Oh, we <em>know</em>,” Annie mutters darkly, forcefully rummaging through her locker.</p><p>“- all friendly and good-looking. Oh, and did I tell you guys he’s a doctor? Give me a fuckin’ <em>break</em>.”</p><p>“No can do,” Britta smirks, peering at something behind Jeff. “There he comes.”</p><p>Three pairs of eyes follow Rich as he weaves through the crowd, amicably greeting students left and right.</p><p>Jeff scowls. “‘Oh, look at me, I’m doctor Rich. Everyone loves me!’”</p><p>“I’m sure not <em>everyone</em> -” Annie attempts.</p><p>“‘I’m Rich, I’m impressive <em>and</em> genuine!’ ” Jeff pushes on mockingly. “‘People can’t decide if they wanna <em>be</em> me or be <em>with</em> me!’”</p><p>Annie and Britta exchange a look.</p><p>“Jeff, nobody’s saying that,” Annie says carefully. Britta is trying to suppress a grin, but only half succeeding.</p><p>“Yeah, well, everyone’s thinking it,” Jeff replies absent-mindedly.</p><p>“Sure, buddy,” Britta smirks. “Everyone.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>* * * * * * *<br/>
</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry all that stuff got dragged out earlier, about me having a crush on Rich," Annie says, all giggles and faux-apologetic shrugs.</p><p>“Why would you be sorry about that?”</p><p>“Well, you talk about him a lot, and I thought you might - you know...” she trails off suggestively. </p><p>Jeff pretends he doesn’t notice the unpleasant flutter in his chest. “What?”</p><p>She drops the act and sighs. “Jeff, I know you have a crush on him.”</p><p>The flutter turns into nausea. Her tone is casual, free of judgement, but it makes him feel uncomfortably <em>seen</em> anyway. So he sputters, an over-defensive denial that doesn’t even convince himself, and her gaze softens. “Jeff...”</p><p>“Annie - no. I don’t even like the guy.” He turns back to his phone. “Go dredge up some more fingers with him, for all I care.”</p><p>Mischief slides over her face. “Fine. Then you won’t mind if I ask him out, will you?”</p><p>“Fine,” he echoes.</p><p>“Good!”</p><p>“<em>Good</em>,” he bites back, and pretends he doesn’t see her smirking into her Anthropology textbook.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>* * * * * * *<br/>
</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Britta is sprawled on her couch, stuffing her face with vegan gummy bears (they’re her favourite, because they’re so ironic), when her phone buzzes. For a moment she pretends not to care - she’s a mindful person, not a psychologically conditioned lab rat, thank you very much - but then it buzzes a second time, and she decides that if she <em> has </em>been conditioned by social media it’s not her own fault anyways, so she might as well give in.</p><p>As the contents of the texts register, all she can think is <em> there it is. </em></p><p>
  <strong>[from: jeff winger - 22:04]</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>    think i might be into guys</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>[from: jeff winger - 22:04]</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>    too, i mean</strong>
</p><p>Bright excitement rouses her from her sugar coma, and she sits up to type a wise and heartfelt reply, then deletes it again. Probably best to play it cool, for her friend’s sake.</p><p>
  <strong>[from: britta perry - 22:06]</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>    congrats!! love u etc etc</strong>
</p><p>A minute drags by with no response. Insecurity begins to creep over Britta, makes her wonder whether she was overenthusiastic still, or perhaps the opposite? Either way, she’s chased her friend off - But then she remembers this is still <em>Jeff</em>, the same guy who wouldn’t let her see him style his hair right after they slept together because it was too ‘private’. That is to say, he might need a little help.</p><p>She flicks her phone open again.</p><p>
  <strong>[from: britta perry - 22:09]</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>    do u want to come over?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>[from: jeff winger - 22:09]</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>    yeah</strong>
</p><p>The reply is brief, but instantaneous, which tells her all she needs to know.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> Britta opens the door in her pajamas, still chewing candy.</p><p>“Let’s not talk about it,” Jeff says.</p><p>Britta raises her eyebrows, popping another unfortunate gummy bear into her mouth. “Thought that’s what you came here for, though.”</p><p>The characteristic Winger retort doesn’t come; all he does is shrug and inspect his fingernails, so she just takes his coat and shuffles off to the kitchen. </p><p>When she re-enters the living room, carrying two steaming mugs, she finds him looking at himself in her Persian mirror. The tableau is familiar, yet strange - he’s always checking his hair, his clothes, his teeth, but always with purpose, and only when he thinks no one’s watching. Now, he’s just staring himself in the face, like he’s expecting to find something new there.</p><p>“I should start covering the mirrors when you come over,” she quips, setting their mugs down on the small coffee table before shuffling over to him. </p><p>The distraction works. He rolls his eyes, and she takes the opportunity to slide herself under his arm and envelop him in a hug. After a beat, his arms come up to wrap around her and he rests his chin on her head. She can practically hear his thoughts buzzing.</p><p>“So...” she begins.</p><p>His chest rises, mouth opens, closes again. No words come out.</p><p>“D’you just wanna watch TV instead?”</p><p>Jeff nods.</p><p>So she tugs him over to her sofa, covers the both of them in the huge lavender throw she keeps for nights like these, and turns on the tv.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>They’re about three episodes in, and she’s just begun to think Jeff has fallen asleep against her, when he finally speaks.</p><p>“Annie said some stuff today,” he mumbles against her shoulder.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Made me realize… other stuff,” he trails off lamely. “Like, some patterns. And uh, I think I knew before, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it? It’s always been - easier, for me, to focus on turning my life into this pretty-looking, gift-wrapped package. You know - the looks, the job, the charm… the girls. Easily digestible.” He swallows. “Except sometimes I feel like <em> I </em> don’t even know what’s inside. And I’m not sure I even want to, because then I’ll have to actually deal with it, and I don’t know what I’ll find on the other side.”</p><p>She blindly finds his hand and grips it tight.</p><p>“I mean, I know I’m… not straight,” he continues. “I just don’t know what that says about me, other than the obvious. Like, should I start wearing skinny jeans now? I - Stop laughing!” and Britta tries, she really does, but the tension is broken and she can’t stop shaking in the dark.</p><p>“Brit, I’m serious,” he says, sounding a little bit hurt, and she can’t help but kiss the top of his head.</p><p>“I’ve <em> seen </em> the movies, Britta. I know I’m being cliché,” he grumbles.</p><p>“Isn’t that a good thing, though?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Being cliché. Doesn’t that just mean you’re not alone in this?”</p><p>“...Huh.”</p><p>“Exactly!” she exclaims, fired up by her own sudden clarity. “So stop being so self-aware! There’s no… no <em> audience, </em>you know - you don’t have to play a role, you don’t have to look good and in control all the time.”</p><p>He’s quiet, his hand squeezing hers in the dark, and her voice softens. “It’s fine if you don’t know what the hell you’re doing, Jeff. You’ve discovered something about yourself you didn’t realize existed, and yeah, that feels messed up. Just remember it’s only your perspective that’s changed, not <em> you.</em> And whatever you find, your family will always be right behind you.”</p><p>Jeff lets go of her hand, and for a moment Britta thinks she’s messed it up, been too gushy, too <em> Britta</em>; but then she feels his arm wrap around her middle - solid, warm, grateful. </p><p>“I knew you were smarter than me.”</p><p>Britta beams. “I have my moments.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>* * * * * * *</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“So, Jeffrey,” Pierce says as they’re all settling down at the study room table. His tone is casual, but his manner is tinged with ominous glee. “How was lunch? Have any good… conversations? You know - <em>man to man</em>?”</p><p> “Pierce, what are you talking about?” Annie eyes him suspiciously. </p><p>“Nothing special,” Pierce hums. “Just wondering when Jeff’s gonna tell us, his dear friends, that he’s gay.”</p><p>Across from him, Jeff barely bothers to look up from his phone, his face a mask of perfect indifference.</p><p>“Pierce, buddy, we talked about this,” says Troy. “You can't come out for other people.”</p><p>“Especially when they’re not actually gay,” Jeff adds coolly.</p><p>“Aha, but it’s true this time!” Pierce yells, pointing a triumphant finger at Jeff. “I saw him having a… a <em> rendezvous </em>with a guy in that lunchroom down the street!”</p><p>“What? No you didn’t,” Jeff scoffs. Britta almost misses the way his knuckles momentarily go white against his phone.</p><p>“So you admit it?”</p><p>“There’s nothing <em> to admit</em>! You guys, how many times has this old man claimed I’m gay...”</p><p>(Shirley hums in agreement. Troy is counting on his hands, but running out of fingers.)</p><p>“...and how many times has he claimed he’s banged Eartha Kitt, or that he was actually the ghostwriter for most of Billy Joel’s songs?”</p><p>“I didn’t <em>bang</em> Eartha Kitt! We made sweet, sweet love,” Pierce indignantly interjects. Shirley gags.</p><p>Jeff leans back with a dismissive smile. “I rest my case.”</p><p>“Hey, do lawyers actually say that in real life?” Abed pipes up, and Jeff eagerly lets the conversation devolve into its usual chaos.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Britta waits up for Jeff as the group disperses, elbowing him as they make their way out of the study room.</p><p>“Sooo. Secret lunch dates at Señor Kevin's, huh? Classy.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. It wasn’t - a date.”</p><p>“Pierce must’ve seen <em>something</em> that gave him that idea, though," she grins. "He may be a fool, but he’s not as delusional as you just convinced everyone he is."</p><p>Jeff sighs, closing his eyes in frustration. “It was - I don’t know, Rich invited me out and I thought maybe he wanted to ask me about Annie or something. We had a really good time, actually. And then, uh. He asked me if I wanted to go to dinner sometime, and I realized he hadn’t brought Annie up the whole time, and - I kind of freaked out. So I dipped.”</p><p>Seeing Britta open her mouth, he continues: “I know it makes no sense, okay? He’s really - Everything was really good and it made me want to run. So I did. And now I fucked it up, which is fine, because now I don’t have to worry about it anymore, right? So.” </p><p>“Oh, Jeff.”</p><p>“Shut up. It’s fine. I don’t care.”</p><p>For once, Britta elects to move past this without argument. Instead, she just squeezes his arm, and he lets her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>* * * * * * *</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Andre’s wandered back into the library, back to his ex-wife and possibly-his baby, and Jeff is left standing on the patio, staring as the rain beats down in a soothing self-assured rhythm. Behind him, Abed slips out of the building to form a quiet, comforting presence by his side.</p><p>“Sorry about earlier,” Jeff says eventually. “I know you all liked Rich. I got a little weird about it.”</p><p>The corner of Abed’s mouth tugs up. “Happens to the best of us. I just figured you were probably working through some stuff. I get it.”</p><p>“You do?” </p><p>Jeff looks up from his shoes, and Abed raises his eyebrows at him. </p><p>“I get it,” he repeats. “You know. In italics.”</p><p>“Oh,” Jeff breathes, and his world becomes a little bigger. “Right.”</p><p>“What I came out here for, though,” Abed says, holding up his phone. “Annie just texted me. She says to tell you she’s not asking Rich out. I actually think she was never planning on it, but y’know. Helped the story along.”</p><p>Something traitorous kicks inside Jeff’s chest, makes him stare at his shoes again. “Cool.”</p><p>“Jeff,” Abed sighs, almost exasperated. “You realize this is your rom-com finale, right?”</p><p>Jeff looks up at his friend’s face. Abed’s eyes are wide and earnest.</p><p>“Just go.”</p><p>Jeff sets off running.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Please don’t say anything until I’ve said what I gotta say.”</p><p>It’s a plea, and an offering, and (Abed’s right) a damn near perfect rom-com reveal, from Jeff’s rain-soaked clothes to the hammering in his chest and Rich’s surprised face in the doorway. The only thing that’s missing is a movie-worthy speech - but the words die in Jeff’s throat before he can twist them into something shiny. If he’s gonna start telling the truth, he might as well do it now.</p><p>“You are... the strangest, and coolest, and most genuine person I’ve ever met, and the thing that scares me about you is how good you make me wish I was.” He takes a breath. “Rich, I’ve misunderstood everything about this, including myself. I got - scared, and the only way I knew how to make it stop was by making you into the villain. I’m sorry. For what happened tonight, and for ditching you yesterday, and for all the time I spent being difficult to you. That’s - I don’t have a better excuse. I get it if you don’t want to be around me anymore. I mean, that might make study group a little awkward, if you still wanted to be in it, but -”</p><p>Rich laughs. “Jeff, I know you don’t want me to be in your study group.”</p><p>“Well, yeah, but it’s not because -”</p><p>“I get it. Those people are your close friends. You guys have something special, and you don’t want me to get in the way of that. <em> I </em> don’t want to get in the way of that. Besides, we can still all be friends outside of study group, right? I mean, we go to the same school.”</p><p>“Right.” Jeff bows his head. Disappointing, but - “I understand.” </p><p>“Other than that...” Rich continues, and Jeff looks up. He’s leaning against the doorframe, looking at Jeff like he’s waiting for something. “Jeff, why did you really come here?”</p><p><em> Oh</em>. Jeff’s arms keep crossing of their own accord, so he shoves his hands in his pockets, picks his head up, finds his voice.</p><p>“Rich, I like you, and I’m hoping you like me too. And I would really like to… get to know you better.  So I was wondering if you’d maybe like to have dinner with me sometime.”</p><p>It’s clunky, and there’s no swelling violins or discreet fade-outs, but at least he got the words out - and then none of it matters when he sees Rich’s face break into a smile.</p><p>“Thought you’d never ask. Come on in and dry off.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>* * * * * * *</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“And… that’s five o’clock!” Annie proclaims over the beeping of her wristwatch. Britta demonstratively slams her textbook shut.</p><p>“So who’s up for pizza?” Abed suggests, pointing at his friends one by one. “Jeff? Pizza?”</p><p>“Can’t. I’ve got a date to catch,” Jeff says as he grabs his books together.</p><p>“Nice,” Pierce nods conspiratorially. “What’s her name?”</p><p>Just then, there’s a knock on the glass, and the group turns around to see Rich waving at them through the window. Annie waves back with an enthusiasm only she could muster on a Friday afternoon.</p><p>“His name,” Jeff says, slowly turning back to face the group, “is Rich.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know that,” Pierce complains, “but who are you...”</p><p>Jeff just raises his eyebrows and braces for -</p><p>“I <em>knew</em> it! Didn’t I tell you? I knew he was gay!”</p><p>And Jeff Winger has never really believed in the existence of that one ‘right’ moment to say anything, but if there ever were, this has to be it. </p><p>“I'm bisexual, actually,” Jeff says - and if his heart is beating just a little louder than usual (which it’s <em> not</em>), no one needs to know. Under the table, Britta’s foot nudges his.</p><p>There’s exactly one second of silence before the group bursts into noisy chaos. Annie, no longer able to contain her squealing or her affection, pulls Jeff into a hug he pretends not to want. On the other side of the table, Troy (torn between sympathetic joy and a jealousy he cannot put his finger on) is grumbling and shooting pained looks at Rich.</p><p>“It’s not fair. Jeff gets to be hot <em>and</em> have a hot boyfriend? Leave some for the rest of us, right? I mean - not like I care, but you know.”</p><p>Abed, who was just shooting solidary finger guns at Jeff, turns to give Troy an incredulous stare.</p><p>“Well, Jeffrey,” Shirley sing-songs, and Annie’s mouth snaps shut in anticipation. “I must say I wasn’t expecting that, but I really am happy for you for - figuring it out, I guess. And it’s nice to see you’re dating such an upstanding young man.” She turns to glare at Pierce.</p><p>“Could be worse, I suppose,” Pierce concedes, rummaging through his bag to pull out a horribly large stack of papers. “Now, Jeff, I must admit I had not foreseen this option when I wrote my speech, but I suppose I could make some last-minute -”</p><p>Loud booing drowns out the rest, and Jeff seizes the opportunity to sneak out of his chair. He makes it far as the door before the group takes notice, and their shouts of protest turn into encouragement to “Have fun!” (from Troy and Shirley) and reminders that “We love you!” (from Britta, Abed, and Annie). With a quick wave, Jeff lets the glass door fall shut behind him; the noise is contained within the study room, but he swears the love follows him out.</p><p>“Hey there,” Rich beams. “You ready?”</p><p>A small smile creeps over Jeff’s face as Rich laces their fingers together.</p><p>“Ready.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>whoo! hope you liked it. this is the very first fic i’ve ever written, so i would love to hear what you think!! hit me up here or on tumblr (torunoutofsteam). comments on anything and everything, including grammar etc., are v welcome - i’m not a native speaker, so feel free to speak up &amp; help me learn!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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